


Hitmen of Westeros

by sycamoretree



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, BAMF Dwalin, Dwalin - Freeform, Dwori - Freeform, Ori, Weapons, Week of Orwal, Wrestling, hitman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sycamoretree/pseuds/sycamoretree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Week of Orwal day 3 with the prompt word 'Hitman'. Tough Dwalin in the Night's Watch gets acquainted with the surprisingly lethal Ori. Ori truly is the brother of polite Dori and shifty Nori. I think the rangers of the Night's Watch count as hitmen of Westeros.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitmen of Westeros

“And you?” Dwalin purred and looked down condescendingly at the scrawny lad before him. “What’s your story, bastard?”

The lads eyes flashed and he raised his chin quite daringly. ‘Interesting,’ Dwalin thought. A boy suddenly not bending to the rules that apply to base-born sons cast out to the Night’s Watch.

“Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll tell you,” the redhead answered acidly and spun around to walk away. What an audacity towards a ranger in front of training men in the yard!

Enraged, Dwalin reached out a meaty hand and grabbed the lad by the shoulder and heaved him backwards down into the cold, muddy ground. He secured the lad there with a knee firmly planted on his chest. Dwalin growled dangerously, but while the lad coughed from the impact with the hard ground, his eyes conveyed no fear. Only tiredness… and maybe recognition.

“Listen, worm! You just dismissed the most northern man south of the Wall, and I could cut out your soft-spoken tongue for that offense! You would do well to not expect any polite manners here if you want to survive the week.”

The lad’s eyes traced Dwalin’s harsh features before he licked his lips and asked, “Do tell me, First Ranger; with what weapon would you remove the tongue from my mouth?”

Dwalin frowned down at him and grunted, “How about my dagger, bastard.”

But the lad pointedly looked down his horizontal body and Dwalin followed his gaze, only to see his own dagger in one pale hand that pressed the shining blade subtly against Dwalin’s abdomen where the jerkin had been shoved up above his breeches.

Dwalin’s jaw dropped and the lad remarked softly, “You gave me no choice, Ranger.”

A silence reigned in the whole yard for a moment before Dwalin threw his head back and laughed loudly. He shifted his knee away from the other man, stood, and offered him a hand. The lad studied the hand with skepticism before he sighed and grasped it to allow Dwalin help him up on his feet.

“Polite _and_ deadly with the knives. What in the name of the seven gods did you do that sent you to the Wall?” Dwalin asked.

The lad lost the ease on his face and tentatively brushed specks of mud from his freckled cheek.

“Well, foremost I am a bastard. But my story is a long and tragic one. I am Ori Stone of Vale. Here is your dagger.”

The lad expertly twiddled the weapon as if it was a toy, and caught it by the blade with the dull side resting in his palm and the sharp edge pointing upwards. Ori stretched the hilt towards Dwalin whose eyes gleamed with unmasked interest at the lad’s promising prowess.

Dwalin shook his head at the gesture and instructed, “No, keep it until I get a fair chance at winning it back.”

Dwalin shared a rare smile with the lad and now he was the one turning his back to the other man, confident that the man wouldn’t attempt to stab him in the back. He could practically feel the clogs turning in the curious man’s head.

This particular recruit could be an ideal addition to the Night’s Watch, and maybe even a more intelligent brother to converse with compared to the other criminals in this filthy place that protected the Northern border to Westeros. Suddenly the approaching winter seemed less tedious.


End file.
